When First She Dreams
by obsessedwithstabler
Summary: In her dreams, he's there with a reassuring smile and kind words she can't understand. He's holding her and she feels safer than she ever feels when she's awake. She knows him, and at the same time, she doesn't. His voice is a salve on her battered and aching heart, but she can't even remember his name.


So The Outsider...what an episode! I wrote this as a follow-up of sorts, and it's very short. But I hope everyone likes it nonetheless. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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It's only late at night when she sees him.

In her sleep, he's there. His long, graceful fingers trace over her skin, eliciting soft sighs from her mouth. His honey brown eyes are intense and reduce her to a mess of nothing with a single, smoldering look.

In her dreams, he's there with a reassuring smile and kind words she can't understand. He's holding her and she feels safer than she ever feels when she's awake. She knows him, and at the same time, she doesn't. His voice is a salve on her battered and aching heart, but she can't even remember his name.

Sometimes they're in a library, surrounded by the written word and thousands of adventures waiting to be had. Sometimes they're outside, lying in the grass on a picnic blanket. His leg is resting across hers and his head is tucked beneath her chin. Her fingers are toying with his soft locks of hair as the sun warms their skin. And sometimes they're lying in a bed together with nothing between them. Skin on skin, eye to eye, hearts racing out of control. There's passion and desperation, tempered only by the feeling that neither of them will ever walk away.

In her dreams, she's never afraid. His presence wraps around her, leaving her with the feeling of being wanted and loved. Sometimes he teases her and sometimes they're wild with reckless abandon. She can't understand why she remembers this man, and she even entertains the notion he's a figment of her imagination. After all, the only thing she can remember about her life is she's been in what the nurse calls a 'mental health facility'. The more she thinks about it, the more easily she's able to convince herself the man in her dreams isn't real. She wants so desperately to be free, to find the kind of emotion she feels in her dreams, but every time she wakes up, she's alone in a hospital room.

People occasionally stop by to see her. There's a tough blond woman who looks as though she carries the world on her shoulders. She calls herself Emma, and she's usually accompanied by a little brown-haired boy. Then there's the raven-haired woman who always looks at her sympathetically. The rest of the faces are a parade of blurs and names she can't remember. But there is one woman in particular who never comes into her room. She just stands at the observation window, her perfectly manicured nails tapping lightly against the glass as she glares. This woman scares her more than she can say, and she doesn't even know her. At least, she thinks she doesn't know her.

She usually sleeps through the night, but on the third night after first waking up in the hospital, she wakes up in the middle of the night. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and her hands are shaking. In her dream, the man with the golden eyes was crossing a road to reach her. Her arms were extended and waiting, but before he could reach her, there was a deafening boom and he crumpled to the ground. She tried to get to him, but something held her back as an evil laugh resonated in her ears. Then she wakes up.

"Hey, hey, hey, what's wrong…?"

The soft voice startles her, and through the darkness, through the mist and fog of the unshaken dream, she recognizes him as the same nameless man. His face is lined with concern and his eyes are the same warm, honey color. Without thinking, she scoots over in the bed and flings herself into his arms. There's tension at first, then his arms slip around her and pull her into his chest with ferocious strength.

"Do you remember?" he whispers, and she wants so badly to. In her dreams, he's there and he's never hurt her. In her dreams, she's safe with him. She's wanted and protected by him. Even if it's all in her head, even if she's crazy like they say, he's there now. He's holding her and she feels just as protected, just as wanted as he makes her feel in her dreams.

Finally she shakes her head.

"It's okay," he soothes, his voice a low rumble. Instinctively she presses herself closer to him, as though she can climb into him if she can just get close enough. "It's okay, sweetheart."

After a while, he moves slowly. On the verge of sleep, she whimpers and clings tighter to him, desperately needing the same reassurance he willingly gives her in her dreams. He shushes her and moves until they're both on the narrow bed. Then he pulls her against his chest again and drapes his arm over her.

She falls asleep easily in his arms, and for the first time, she doesn't dream.

_Finis._


End file.
